Together
by AlistairsPocketwatch
Summary: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest? What if Voldemort had changed his mind? First story in a while. Serpentine Voldemort. Please R R.
1. Chapter 1

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 1: A Change of Heart

Harry made his way slowly and sluggishly into the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort had offered to call off the entire war if Harry handed himself in. There was no questions about what he had to do. He couldn't kill Voldemort without dying anyway, so he decided that it was best to go.

In all honesty, the message had been a godsend. Harry had learnt a lot in this war; his purpose, how many people actually cared about him. He was a sacrifice to be delivered, and it was finally the time to do so. He wasn't scared about what was to come. If anything, he was grateful. The only regret he would have about dying would be giving Voldemort the satisfaction of being the perpetrator. He guessed that Ron and Hermione weren't really to blame. None of his school friends were aware of his duties, they had just wanted to help. For a while, they had all thought they'd had a chance of winning the war.

Harry knew better.

He studied the trees, the deep greens and browns that surrounded him. The greens made him ponder something. Had he chosen Slytherin in the first year, would this whole outcome have been different? Would he have given himself up earlier? Or would he have been recruited as a Death Eater? He looked up and sighed. He was close now, the stinging in his scar told him that. He guessed he'd never know.

Voldemort stood in the clearing, waiting. Lucius and Narcissa stood close by, and he held his hand up, signalling the approach of the boy. He wasn't the sight Voldemort expected. He had expected crying. Pleading. Fear. Harry's face looked ominously blank.

"Harry Potter. The Boy who Lived, come to die." He grinned. Harry sighed again and nodded, staring straight at him. Voldemort's face dropped. It was incredibly unsettling to see Harry so accepting of his imminent death.

"Get on with it. Please." Harry muttered. Voldemort frowned.

"Not wanting your death to be painful, Potter?" He asked. Harry shook his head. The next sentence he spoke would be enough to leave Voldemort frozen. Harry took a step forward and fell on his knees in front of him.

"Please kill me. I don't want to live anymore."

After a few moments of silence and shock, Voldemort decided to try toying with Harry. The attempt fell flat.

"Taking the coward's way out? What would Dumbledore think?"

"Who cares? He was saving me up to be used as a sacrifice, and didn't actually give a damn about me as a person. Him and his whole plan can rot in hell. I'm done. Kill me, take everything. It's what you want, right? Do it. Please, just kill me."

Voldemort had not expected a reaction like that in the slightest. Harry had been used by the Light as a weapon, a role he had never wanted to take. Maybe he was in the grey between the two, as Snape had been. Not wanting to let people down, but ready to let the world fall if they saw no other way out.

He remembered something Snape had shown him before the fight. A certain possibility. He didn't know how it would have worked, as the only option was to kill the boy, but it had been the two of them on top of the school, grabbing at each other's throats. Harry had said something in the possibility, something that stuck out in Voldemort's mind like a blinding light.

"Come on, Tom. Let's finish this the way we started it. Together!"

He focused on the boy at his feet. He was sure the context of the possibility was death, but looking at Harry, he felt a strange twang of pity. What if it didn't have to be death? What if…

What if they could work together?

They could end this war on the same side. Together, there could be nothing that could stop them. Taking Harry hostage for a while would keep him safe until Harry agreed to join the Dark…it would work perfectly.

"I will not kill you."

Harry looked up at him in sheer shock, not wanting to believe what he had said.

"You have to! You're the only one who will…"

"I have a better idea. You'll be coming with me."

Before they apparated away, Voldemort raised his voice to the sky and delivered a final message.

"Students, teachers and Aurors. I will not kill Harry Potter. Instead, I will be taking him hostage. If anyone tries to find him, he will die. This war is not over. In fact…" He looked down at Harry and grinned.

"…It's just begun."


	2. Chapter 2

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 2: The Snake's Pit

Harry woke up in a dungeon bed, caged in, with no light. It wasn't as if it scared him; he was used to this kind of treatment. Life on Privet Drive hadn't been much better than his current situation and he knew that he could easily get used to it. At least there wouldn't be another Uncle Vernon here. His wand was missing. He saw a small bowl of what looked like cereal left on the floor for him, and decided to eat.

The dungeon was sparkling. Entirely made of black marble, the room reminded him of the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't even really a dungeon, besides the bars. The bed was comfortable, the space itself was incredibly pretty and hygienic, and overall Harry felt as if he were staying in the bathroom of a very fancy hotel. A nice change from all the tent travel he'd done as of late.

The apparating had caused him to faint. He had been weak from the fight, and although he seemed to cope with that type of travel well on most days, today was not one of those days. Harry had no idea how long he'd been out for, or what time it was. He turned to face the staircase suddenly as he heard the entrance door clang open and shut again. Narcissa waltzed down the stairs, and stopped outside the bars.

"Harry. The fight immediately disbanded. Everyone was allowed to go free. Draco was safe. I suppose I have you to thank for that." She smiled briefly, not quite making eye contact. Harry nodded.

"Not to seem rude, but how long have I been in here for?" He asked. Narcissa thought to herself for a moment, trying to figure out the time difference.

"About 5 hours. You weren't just physically drained, it seems." She checked over her shoulders to make sure no one else was there, before pulling something out from underneath her cloak. It was a plate with a small slice of cake on it.

"Whilst you're in my house," she started. "You are a guest. No matter what Lucius and The Dark Lord suggest. Therefore, I will treat you as if you were my own." She finally looked at him and smiled. Harry smiled back, taking the plate.

"Thanks. It's not that I'm ungrateful, but won't you get into trouble for this? Why are you doing it?" He asked. Narcissa hesitated slightly, trying to think of the right words to say.

"Draco…as you know, he was asked to kill Dumbledore. A lot of responsibility was placed on his shoulders, and it was something that haunted and possessed him. He was not ready to be the pawn in the Dark Lord's plan, which is why I asked Severus to complete the deed in his place." She drew a long strand of white hair from her face.

"I sense that same vulnerability in you, Harry. You didn't ask for this. You're just a child. Your mother died to protect you, and everyone else went against her wishes. As a mother myself, I refuse to. I…I would want someone to protect Draco if he were in your position. This is why I defended Severus to the end. He helped you both as much as he could. Maybe not for your own sakes, but because Lily and I, as mothers, gave him the drive to do so."

She reached a hand through the bars, and Harry walked over and took it. She stroked his hand softly with a thumb and smiled.

"I don't want to replace your mother, but I can act in her place if you so wish." She nodded. Harry squeezed her hand and nodded back.

"Thank you, Narcissa." He smiled. She let go of his hand.

"The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you within the hour. I will be back with suitable robes in a moment." As she started to walk away, Harry called out to her.

"Why did he keep me alive?" He asked. Narcissa did not turn to face him.

"Some speculate he wanted to torture you. Others think he is using you as a bargaining tool." She paused for a moment.

"I, however, believe he saw himself in you. I will be back for you." With that, she left Harry alone to the silence of the dungeon once more.

…

AN: I am so very excited to be finally writing this. Harry Potter was the first non-anime fandom I started to write for (at twelve years old), so to be able to revisit it is something very special to me. I will try to keep all characters in character as much as possible. Any sort of critique is accepted. Fanfiction taught me to write after all, and there is still so much to be learnt.

Thank you for reading!

-Alistair


	3. Chapter 3

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 3: The Offer

Narcissa led Harry around Malfoy Manor, through the highly decorative hallways. Harry could appreciate its décor. The Weasley's house was a mess, but it was homely, all mismatched furniture and holes in things. It was well lived in. Malfoy Manor, in comparison, seemed as if it had never been touched. Everything was sparkling. He wondered how things had been kept so clean.

Two ebony double doors were pushed open, and on the other end of the dining table sat the Dark Lord, looking like someone who had just won a competition and was about to receive their prize. Harry shuffled in sheepishly behind Narcissa, who pulled out a chair two down from Voldemort and gestured for Harry to sit. As he did so, she turned and left the room in silence, leaving the two of them to talk.

This was it. The first time they had ever talked without trying to kill each other. Harry still wished he would. Maybe if he wound him up enough or refused his demands, he might receive a swift and sudden death out of anger? He waited for Voldemort to speak.

"Harry, there is no need to seem so afraid. Rather, I was expecting you to be angry at me for not fulfilling your wishes." Voldemort started, taking pleasure in how frightened Harry seemed to be.

"It would have been appreciated, but I've realised now that I'm not ever going to escape this war." Harry sighed. "So tell me why I'm still alive."

"I have a business proposition for you, Harry." He started. "A truce of sorts between us."

"And what are you going to do if I say no?" Harry asked. "Kill me?" Another pang of pity fled through the Dark Lord's mind.

"No. I just keep you here as Draco's servant." Voldemort grinned. Harry rolled his eyes.

"No training required. It's not like I've been serving a family since I was seven or anything." He grumbled. Voldemort stopped. That's what Harry's muggle life had been like? He made a mental note to get the full story out of him at some point.

"Or, you could agree, and have the most wonderful life you could possibly imagine." He grinned. Harry decided to listen. A reason to want to live was all he needed right now. He gestured at Voldemort to continue.

"I have told your friends that you are my hostage. That is the case for now. However…" He stopped before Harry could work himself up. "That is not my intention. I was thinking, Harry, that maybe you carried a lot of resent against Dumbledore."

"I wonder where you got that idea from." Harry muttered sarcastically, holding his face in his hand, staring at the opposite wall.

"Well, what if I said to you that I didn't want a hostage, but an ally. A way to get back at Albus Dumbledore." Voldemort continued. Harry suddenly sat upright and faced him, giving his full undivided attention.

"What are you suggesting?" Harry asked. Voldemort smiled.

"You're looking more alive already. We both know that neither of us can be killed without the other dying first. Therefore, I believe it's in our best interest to work together, making us practically invincible." The Dark Lord explained. Harry started cringing at the idea of his life never coming to an end, so Voldemort went into more detail.

"You would get your own room within the Manor. I can see Narcissa has grown fond of you. You will be taken care of. Anything you want, within reason, shall be given to you. You will have a life of luxury. A life worth living." He offered. Harry was definitely contemplating the idea. To be able to have his own space, to have what he wanted for once, it all sounded perfect. But he knew there was going to be a catch.

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked. Voldemort shook his head.

"I want you to be able to claim back the life that you couldn't have. I want you to join me. Not as a Death Eater, but as an equal." He started. "You are in the same calibre of wizard as I am, not a tool or weapon. I want to treat you as such. You will know of all plans, be able to question them and add your own ideas. I will not hide information from you as they did." Voldemort stuck a hand out to Harry.

"What do you say?"

Harry wanted to take his hand. It would mean all of his life's work so far would be ruined, but at least he would have some quality of life after. Yes, the man had killed his parents, but Narcissa was right. Lily had wanted Harry safe. Voldemort would not hurt him now. No, that was Dumbledore's job, even after death. But there were still his friends to consider. Ron. Hermione. Neville. Luna.

"Can I think it over?" Harry asked. "There's one factor I need to think over. I can get back to you tomorrow, if that's okay? It's not that I'm not grateful…"

"Harry," Voldemort sighed. "I understand. It is a lot to consider. I will give you tonight. I expect you to join me for breakfast tomorrow morning." With that, Narcissa re-entered the room. Harry nodded respectfully in Voldemort's direction and left.

The Dark Lord stared at the double doors. He could not believe how much life had entered Harry's eyes at the mere concept of being treated as an equal. Was that how much they had used him? And what of his muggle life? He seemed to be caught in the never ending cycle of being used. Voldemort didn't want to admit it, but he felt almost sorry for the boy.

He almost cared.

…

So, five followers overnight? Thank you so much. It made my morning. I'll try to get another chapter out before I go for my tattoo later, but my girlfriend is getting annoyed that I'm ignoring her, so we'll see.  
Reviews are appreciated!

-Alistair


	4. Chapter 4

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 4: A Shadow

Back in the dungeon, Harry lay staring at the ceiling. Was there a reason for his kindness? Harry guessed it was just a bribe, but maybe Narcissa was right. Maybe Voldemort saw something in Harry he had been through. Not exactly a weapon, but not quite seen as a person either. He had become his own weapon, and he was offering Harry the same opportunity.

But what about his schoolmates? He didn't want to have to hurt them. Ron's family had pretty much taken him in as one of their own, he owed a whole lot to Hermione and Neville, and Luna got him in a way not many people did…if he took the offer, would he be able to save them?

Harry heard the dungeon door clang again, and looked up, expecting Narcissa. Instead, he got the youngest Malfoy. Draco sat cross legged on the other side of the bars, and Harry did likewise on his side. Draco stared at the floor in silence for a while.

"Mother said I owed you a thank you for what happened." He sniffed. "So thanks, I guess."

"No problem." Harry shrugged. More silence.

"Mother also told me what happened in the Forest. Why you're here. What the Dark Lord offered you." Draco nodded, finally looking up at Harry. "And I think you'd be a fool not to accept. You get to live in my house, free of charge."

"True. But what about the others in our year? My friends?" Harry questioned. "I can't let them die."

"Then don't." Draco smirked, prodding at the bars and not quite paying attention. "He wants you. If I tried to bargain with him, he'd kill me, but I think you could get away with it. Come up with a list of people you want safe. Say you won't agree until they're safe."

"What if he says no?" Harry asked. Draco shrugged.

"Threaten to hunger strike until you die. He knows you're serious. Mother would understand." He looked up at Harry and grinned. "To be honest, Potter, I don't think I could stand you trailing at my feet like some sort of house elf."

"You'd have to beg me to, Malfoy." Harry grinned. The two of them stared at each other with stupid grins for a few moments.

"So," Harry questioned. "Why are you really down here? I doubt it was to help me." Draco rolled his eyes and acted melodramatically offended for a moment.

"Actually, it kind of was." Draco started. "Since you're going to be living here either way, I thought I'd make you the same offer I did in first year." He stuck his hand through the bar ready for Harry to shake. Harry nodded and took it.

"Friends?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised.

"Friends." Harry responded, smiling.

The two of them sat in the dungeon, chatting for hours. Draco would give Harry a snippet of Slytherin life, from what Crabbe and Goyle did in their spare time to the one time Snape slept-walked through the common room. Harry responded with Neville's practise dancing for the Yule Ball and Ron's run in with the love potion, which Draco found hilarious.

"Why do you hate Ron so much?" Harry asked. Draco shrugged.

"They just seem too…messy. Too…eurgh. You know?"

"They could say the same thing about you. Too clean. Too prim and proper." Harry grinned. Draco nodded, agreeing.

"When you're housing the Dark Lord, you've got to have standards. Now we've got the Chosen one, the pressures on." He grinned. "But Father was always like that. It's just how purebloods are brought up to be, I guess. Cold and unfeeling. The house matches."

"You don't." Harry commented.

"True." Draco chuckled. "But I've always been a bit of a disappointment." His head went to drop in the sudden silence when Harry nodded.

"Same." More silence. Awkward floor and bar tapping. Neither knew how to carry on the conversation. It was best to backtrack.

"So, are you going to accept his offer?" Draco asked. Harry nodded.

"I'll try bargaining. See where it gets me. Then…yeah, I guess." He grabbed on to the bars and rattled them. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to spend any more time behind them. Draco nodded in understanding.

"They're planning to stick you in the West Wing. It's nice that way, and I'm not too far." He muttered. "The Dark Lord is three doors down. I think he wants to keep an eye on you."

"How does it feel to be sharing a house with a mass murderer?" Harry asked. Draco waved the question off.

"Pssh. He's like a pet. We feed him, give him some sort of entertainment. Only my Father acts like some sort of dog toy. And he calls me pathetic." Harry laughed at that, and Draco snickered to himself.

Harry decided he was going to like it in Malfoy's Manor.

…

I'm loving doing this. If you want more, please give me a review? If there's something you'd like to see, make suggestions. If there's something you don't like, tell me. I love hearing other people's opinions!

-Alistair


	5. Chapter 5

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 5: One More Thing

Harry made his way to the main room with Narcissa. She smiled at him as they walked. She seemed exceptionally happy, and Harry couldn't quite figure out why. Draco passed them in the corridor and gave a knowing grin to his mother. Maybe they were both happy that they had bonded with Harry? He wasn't suspicious at all; the two of them had been nothing but nice since yesterday, but he decided to ask Narcissa what was making her so happy regardless.

"Oh, Harry, I'm just happy you're accepting the Dark Lord's wishes. It means that you get to stay with us. I can take care of you." She opened the double doors, and Harry yet again walked into Voldemort' presence.

As she shut the door, her son appeared beside her and talked in hushed tones.

"Do you think this is okay?" He asked. She stroked his face fondly.

"He'd be angry if he knew, but he never will. And we're going to keep it that way." Narcissa smiled at Draco and he grinned back. Lucius hadn't been happy about the Dark Lord's plan, but Draco and Narcissa had been genuinely overjoyed. The Manor was going to feel a lot more homely with its newest arrival.

Harry walked quietly into the room. Voldemort nodded, smiling, something Harry still found bizarre, and offered the seat next to him. Harry sat at his right, waiting for the conversation to begin. In the meantime, he studied the breakfast food. Bacon. Eggs. Toast. Brilliant.

They ate together in silence for the most part, before Voldemort could resist any longer.

"What did you decide, Harry?" He asked. Harry formed the words in his head as he chewed.

"Well," he started. "I want to accept, but I was wondering if I could make a request."

"Very well." Voldemort nodded, an encouraging hand signalling Harry to continue.

"I have a list of names. I want to make sure they stay safe. Is that okay?" He asked. Voldemort chuckled.

"I don't think you're in any position to be bargaining. However, I admire your courage. Go on."

"The Weasleys. Neville. Luna. Hermione. That's all." Harry admitted. He didn't have many people left worth protecting. The man in front of him had made sure of that.

"Dully noted." Voldemort sighed. "Is that all?"

Harry nodded.

"Well then," Voldemort grinned. "Welcome to my home."

Harry finished his breakfast and waited for the Dark Lord to finish his. Voldemort nodded at Harry and Harry stood to leave the room. As he reached the door, he was stopped.

"Oh, and Harry?" The voice crooned. Harry stopped. That didn't sound very welcoming.

"One more thing." Harry panicked. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He turned to see Voldemort rise from his seat and grin, arm and wand extended.

"Obliviate."

…

He woke on a silk bed. There were two people in the room, still rather blurry. They both had white hair.

"Where am I? Who am I?" He screamed, scared and distressed. The one with short white hair held him down by his arms. The one with long white hair cupped his face.

"Harry, it's okay, it's all going to be okay. You're safe, you're home." His vision corrected itself suddenly. He wore glasses?

The kind woman sighed. The boy nodded at Harry reassuringly.

"My name's Harry?" Harry asked. The kind looking woman nodded.

"Yes, Harry. Your name is Harry. Harry Malfoy." She smiled and kissed his forehead lightly, before holding his face in her hands. She smiled lovingly.

"I'm your mother. You're my son."

…

Hey! Thank you so much for all the follows and reviews! I'm so sorry this is late, but I promise to keep updating. I'm back at college in a week and coursework has to come first, unfortunately, but I will try to update every three days at least!

Thanks for sticking with me.

-Alistair


	6. Chapter 6

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Also, as a reply to one of my reviews, I must apologise. I did in fact forget Teddy and a few others in Harry's list. The reason for it is really dumb. I haven't seen the last movie since it came out. (It's the only one I haven't seen a million times over.) And it's been years since I've read the books. My interest in Harry Potter fluctuates. The last time I was this into it was when I was 12, which tells you a lot. The Cursed Child brought me back.

On the bright side, anyone else looking forward to Harry Potter Go? I sure am.

Chapter 6: A New Start

"M-Mother?" Harry asked, still blatantly confused. Narcissa would not allow herself to feel guilty. She could give Harry a good life with her. He wouldn't be able to leave the Manor; not alone and without disguise at least. She was going to keep the idea of 'Potter' as far from her new son as possible.

Draco stared at his new brother with an air of excitement. He wasn't going to be alone in the Manor anymore. He was going to be the best brother possible. He was just under two months older than Harry, and he was going to protect Harry as if he was his little brother.

"That's right, Harry. I've got you. We're going to look after you, aren't we, Draco?" Narcissa smiled. Draco nodded.

"Anything for my little brother."

…

Harry picked up the majority of information quickly. He was a Malfoy. There had been a broom accident (Here Harry, I'll teach you how to fly again!) which had been caused by magic (Here's your wand, Harry!) And within two weeks, he was pretty well adjusted and integrated into Malfoy Manor.

"Draco," Harry started. "Why does Father hate me so much?"

"It's okay," Draco smiled, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "He hates me too."

"Not a much as he hates me. He won't even look at me. Why don't I look like you?" He asked. Draco had to think quickly.

"You…you're not actually his. Mother had an affair with a traveller, and she gave birth to you. He's not your real Father. It's not a bad thing though. He's a crap Father, in all honesty."

Harry sighed. He loved his mother and brother to pieces, but…something still felt off. They took care of him, there was no lack of care, but he still felt empty. Something was missing.

"Draco, who's the man down the hall from me?" Harry asked. Draco smiled. An easy question.

"That's the Dark Lord. He's Father's boss. You…you haven't seen him since the crash, have you?" He realised. Harry shook his head.

"His snake came into my room. She's nice. We talked about not being able to go outside." Harry muttered. Draco felt awful. That was the one part he regretted; trapping Harry inside so he couldn't learn his real identity.

"Nagini freaks me out." He grinned. "But I think you need to meet the Dark Lord. Let me speak to Mother about it.

…

It took two more weeks for a firm decision, but the meeting was organised. Harry was dressed up in fancy robes whilst Narcissa explained what was and wasn't appropriate. Harry didn't pay attention. It was a new person, and he was excited to meet him. He tried not to grin too much. He knew Mother would disapprove.

Harry took a deep breath as Narcissa opened the double doors. He sat at the head of the table, red eyes burning from across the room. Harry nearly gasped at his Serpentine appearance. A chilling yet calm smile graced the man's face as he gestured for Harry to take the seat next to him. Harry approached cautiously, but curiously.

"Harry. A pleasure to see you again." His voice was almost like air, very breathy and dramatic, and Harry decided that he liked the sound. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks." Harry grinned. The man flowed. He made slow and precise movements, like water. Graceful, but dangerous. Harry knew to respect water, or you'd drown. He had the same feel to him.

"I'm sorry if I sound rude," Harry started. "But I don't remember you."

"I wouldn't expect you to." The Dark Lord grinned. "You may address me as the Dark Lord…"

"Do you have a real name, though?" Harry cut in. Voldemort smirked. Same old, slightly rude Harry. He knew that Harry Malfoy would be as likely to call him the Dark Lord as Harry Potter would. Not at all.

"I call myself Voldemort. I know you'll do it anyway, so yes, you may address me as such."

Harry was intrigued by the man. He didn't know quite what drew his interest. It was a range of things. The snake-like look. The glowing, powerful stare. The airy voice. The graceful movements. That smirk. The dominance and power that washed through the room. How weak Harry felt in comparison. But there was something else, too. He could sense that Voldemort had a sense of respect for him. All of this combined into something…something…  
 _Beautiful._

…

Hi! I'm so sorry this has taken so long, I'm back to college in two days and my laptop decided to break. Luckily, my girlfriend is an ace with computers, and literally fixed it by punching it (don't ask) so we're back on track!

Thank you so much for all the follows! You guys make me so happy!

-Alistair


	7. Chapter 7

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 7: A Sliver of Green

Voldemort's head snapped to the door.

"Come in."

All three Malfoy's came through the door. Lucius sat on the Dark Lord's other side, whilst Narcissa sat next to him. Draco sat next to Harry and they grinned at each other. Lucius glared at them and they stopped immediately.

"Now, Harry," Voldemort turned to him, noting how much more alive his eyes seemed since Draco had walked in, and tried to ignore the green burning into his skull.

"As a Malfoy, surely you have heard of the Death Eaters?" He asked. Harry nodded.

"Draco told me about it." He smiled, nodding towards his 'brother'. Voldemort realised Harry's devotion to Draco was going to get old really, really quickly.

"Being a Death Eater is a family honour." Lucius nodded, voice as monotone as ever. Harry stared at him, unblinking, to show he understood.

"It involves working for me. However, Harry, you'll be working _with_ me. There's something special about you." The Dark Lord grinned. Harry frowned.

"What about Draco?"

Everyone but Harry seemed to be able to sense the tension between Voldemort and Draco at this point. Draco had played his role well, too well, and Voldemort was insistent that he was Harry's top priority. There's was an emotion Voldemort felt towards Draco Malfoy. He wasn't very knowledgeable of positive emotions, but he didn't need to be here. Harry's eyes flashed. A sliver of green.

Jealousy.

"He works under me." The Dark Lord growled. "You have a choice. You work with me as an equal, or you become an underling with dear Draco." He gritted his teeth as Harry turned to Draco, who in turn, shook his head. Harry turned back, sounding sadder than before.

"With you." He murmured. Voldemort grinned. Draco wasn't the smartest, but he had made the right choice for both their sakes. Now, if Voldemort could get that kind of devotion from Harry, Harry would look to him for answers.

Perfect.

"I will be training you personally." The Dark Lord continued, rubbing a hand around his smooth head. Harry's eyes lit up again. He seemed excited at the prospect.

Many details were discussed. Harry would have a daily lesson with Voldemort to rebuild his magical knowledge, and would attend all meetings from then on. With details discussed, the Malfoy's left the two alone once again.

"Harry," Voldemort started. "Do you remember the emotion of love?" He hoped for a no. Unfortunately, he got the opposite.

"Yes." Harry smiled. "I've forgotten major memories, obviously, but emotion is something I don't think I could forget. Especially something as powerful as that. Why do you ask?"

"Do you…love Draco?" The Dark Lord found himself asking. Harry laughed, whipping a hand through his messy black hair, and shook his head.

"As a brother, I guess, but he's a douchebag from time to time."

The jealousy suddenly subsided. Voldemort smiled.

"Very well. Can you explain love to me? It's not something I experience."

The look Harry gave him made him feel sick. It was the look Harry gave him, writhing on the floor of the Ministry of Magic in the fifth year. It was the look Harry had from peering into his past in Harry's sixth year.

 _Pity._

"Love is…wonderful, but also awful." Harry started. Voldemort stared, confused. He hadn't expected that. Harry stared at the opposite wall, moving his hands, trying to think of how to phrase his thoughts.

"It…it can be great. It's warm and comforting. It's a type of happiness, I guess, where you feel like you belong and that you actually mean something to someone."

"Then why did you say it was awful?" Voldemort asked, leaning forward on one hand. Harry paused for a moment.

"When love goes, or disappears, it can rip you to pieces. Don't get me wrong, I love Mother and Draco, but since I came round…it feels like it's all gone. Something's missing, or off. It's an empty feeling, a numb one, that makes you want to scream and cry. Absence of love, once you've had it, is like taking a man to paradise for a day and then saying he can't ever go back. It feels like you're broken."

"Thank you, Harry, for giving me a deeper understanding. That is all for today. I'll see you for your first lesson tomorrow morning."

Harry left quietly, and Voldemort watched him go. As soon as the door closed, he grinned.

Harry had pretty much admitted that in this state, he was broken. His devotion to Draco, someone who seemed to care, just proved how much he wanted to be fixed. Everything had worked perfectly. The weapon the Order had used on Voldemort for all those years was going to prove to be Harry's biggest weakness.

"You want love, Harry Potter?" Voldemort grinned to himself.

"I'll show you love…"

…

Thank you all so much for bearing with me! I've just gone back to college, and coursework and depression don't mix. I promise to keep updating as much as possible.

I WILL NOT REST UNTIL THIS STORY ENDS.

-Alistair


	8. Chapter 8

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 8: A Lesson in Love

Harry rose early, excited for his morning lesson. To be able to be taught by such an esteemed wizard was a great honour, and Narcissa wouldn't let him forget it. She fussed over him all morning and all through breakfast, much to Lucius' dismay. Draco gave him a hug, a smile, and a pat on the back, but nothing more. He had learnt his place at the table the day before. Getting too close to Harry was a death sentence, and that made Draco even more worried.

Just what did the Dark Lord have in store for the poor boy?

After eating and dressing, Harry was led to a room at the end of his corridor, next to Voldemort's room. It was large and nicely decorated; beautiful pictures scaled the walls and it reminded Harry of a ballroom. What was a ball again? He couldn't remember, but it somehow reminded him of a ball room.

He was stood in the corner of the room. Once Harry was left in the middle, Voldemort gestured for Narcissa to leave the room. Harry waited patiently for Voldemort to begin the lesson.

"Harry, my dear boy," He started, finally making eye contact with him. "These lessons will not be easy. They will be hard, and the spells fatal. I will make you into a weapon. A glorious weapon. The one I use to win this war." Voldemort glided closer to him.

"Maybe you are not ready." Voldemort suggested, lowering to Harry's eye level, letting a hand trace softly down Harry's face, whilst never losing eye contact. The boy didn't question the motion. Wonderful.

"You were a rather sensitive soul, Harry. Maybe you're still a bit too soft." He turned to walk away when he heard a voice blurt out behind him. He grinned as he listened.

Harry was already eager to impress.

"I can do it!" He yelled after the Dark Lord. "At least let me try it."

Voldemort returned to stand beside Harry. He summoned a rat to the room, an abnormally large one.

"Fine. The first spell we will focus on is the Imperius Curse. Point your wand at the rat, and say clearly, 'Imperio'."

Harry, scared of the results, did as told. He did not want to let the Dark Lord down. That hand on his face…he had a nice side.

"Imperio."

The rat froze in place.

"Wonderful, Harry!" Voldemort smiled. "Now move your wand around. Will the rat to do something."

Harry made it run in circles at first, to test the waters. He started to laugh as the rat did exactly as he told it to. He made it crash into the wall several times. He looked at Voldemort for confirmation the he was doing it right, and the Dark Lord smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Let me have a turn. Imperio!" He hissed, immediately making the rat scuttle around the ceiling. Harry laughed harder, the sight of it completely obscene.

"I can make him throw himself into the fireplace, or jump out of the window." Voldemort grinned. "But I have more spells to show you. The next is only funny if you're a dark humoured as me, I'm afraid." He caused the rat to sit in the middle of the room again.

"The next spell is the Cruciatus Curse. A Crucio is all that is required. Try it."

Harry summoned the courage, and spoke the word. The rat started to squirm on the floor, screeching. Voldemort grinned wickedly at the sight. Harry couldn't see the rat anymore. There was an old man on the floor with a long grey beard, and Harry couldn't help but feel as if this man had wronged him, and that the revenge felt good.

Voldemort turned to find Harry grinning. He used their mental link to see what he was seeing. Albus Dumbledore, writhing on the floor, begging for death.

"Harry," he asked. "Do you remember who that man is?"

Harry shook his head. Voldemort stood behind him, placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, and spoke to him in hushed tones.

"That man was the reason you asked to work with me in the first place, before the accident. He put you through hell, Harry. He took you from your parents and brother and put you in a house of Muggles who treated you like dirt. And for years, he masqueraded as your most trusted ally."

"I want to kill him." Harry growled, a familiar sense of betrayal washing over him. Voldemort had never seen Harry in such a vicious mind set. He was going to make a brilliant weapon.

"Unfortunately, you can't. He is already dead. Draco helped to set it up, you'll be happy to know. But you can kill the one in front of you." Voldemort smiled.

"The third is the Killing Curse. Avada Kedavra. Do it, Harry. Kill him!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A burst of green. A dead rat. A new feeling of strength and power.

Voldemort shrunk the rat down and called in Nagini, who was very pleased to have a pre-killed meal.

Harry didn't take his eyes off it for a second.

"Harry, are you okay?" Voldemort asked. He nodded.

"It felt…better than I expected." He admitted. Voldemort darted in front of him, allowing Harry to break eye contact and settle down.

"You weren't able to do that spell before the accident. I'm proud of you." He patted Harry's shoulder comfortingly.

"If you need me, you know I'm down the corridor. Or just think it, and I'll find you. You are dismissed."

…

Harry and Draco sat down in the dungeon where their conversation wouldn't be interrupted. Draco had been interested in the lesson, and harry had explained what he'd had to do.

"The Unforgivable Curses." Draco nodded. "Even I can't do those. They…they scare me."

"I think I know why. I thought I lost myself for a bit at the end." Harry chuckled nervously. "But I could do it because I saw someone. An old man. Voldemort told me you helped to kill him."

Draco nodded, and sat quietly for a few seconds.

"I was meant to kill him. But I couldn't do it because I didn't hate him enough. Had I known what he'd really done to you, though, I might have been able to."

"Who was he?" Harry asked.

"Our old Headmaster." Draco sniffed. "Doesn't really matter anymore. How was he as a teacher? The Dark Lord?" Draco asked curiously. Harry paused for a moment.

"He's…not as bad as he makes out he is. He…he seemed like he actually cared if I was okay."

Draco suddenly smirked. So _that_ was why they weren't allowed to get too close. Voldemort seemed to want Harry to himself.

"Well, you are his favourite." Draco smiled. "All he's done is gush over you since you went missing. He was the one that saved you from the accident. You're the only one on equal terms with him. Harry, the Dark Lord's house pet." He laughed. Harry threw one of the dungeon's pillows at him.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing." Harry muttered to himself.

…

Sorry it's taken so long, my first art degree unit is due in Monday, and I've only just managed to get the work done. Between this, my web comic, my foundation degree, my relationship and my third book, I don't stop. Add that the keyboard on this is broken (s, d and . don't work properly), it's a constant battle.

I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am. I _promise_ it starts getting juicy soon!

And thank you SO MUCH for all the followers.

-Alistair


	9. Chapter 9

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 8: Those People

…

Harry felt water trickle down his skin, but when he looked, there was none. He was in a tiny cramped cupboard, unable to even sit up straight. He felt trapped. A row of toy soldiers and horses sat on a shelf in front of him, and there was a grate to his right. He peered out and saw a small, pale corridor. He let himself out of the tiny room and realised he had been sat in a cupboard under the stairs.

He stumbled into the front room to find a large, greying man and his son on the sofa. The wife was making coffee.

"You're getting lazy, Harry." The man muttered. "I expected my coffee an hour ago."

"Yeah, Potter, rise and shine." The boy snickered.

"Because of you, I had to stop my embroidery. You've already put me back on my schedule." The woman snapped.

Harry felt a sharp anger surge through him. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the large man. He hated him. This man deserved to die. He didn't know why, he just needed to do it.

"Avada Kedavra!"

With a flash of green, the scene changed. Harry was stood inside a tower. The old man, their old Headmaster, was lying on the floor. He looked friendly. Harry knew better. He raised his wand.

"Harry, don't do it!" A girl shrieked. He looked over to see a blonde girl in tears, and a ginger boy hugging her. They both looked terrified of him.

"Harry, mate, you're better than this." The ginger boy mumbled, trying to calm Harry down.

"I don't know you. I don't know who you are." Harry growled, pointing the wand at the old man again.

"Crucio."

Harry watched as he squirmed and yelled. The girl started screaming; he wanted to shut her up.

 _Make it fling itself out of the window…_

"Imperio." Harry muttered, causing the old man to rise, and then fly out of the window to his death.

…

Harry woke up, sweating, shaking and gasping for air. He couldn't move. He was still angry, but he was scared, and not knowing what had gone on turned the anger into fear, and he began to cry.  
He was heard from down the corridor. Voldemort hadn't looked into the nightmare, but he had known something was wrong. The crying only solidified his…worry? Concern? Was he actually concerned for Harry? Labels for emotions didn't matter now, he just had to find out what was wrong. He ran into Harry's room and sat on the bed. The boy, without thinking, immediately started clinging to him. He was shaking wildly. Voldemort started to instinctively stroke his hair, something he had seen Narcissa do to an upset Draco many a time, and Harry eventually began to calm down.

"What happened, Harry?" Voldemort asked. Harry took a few moments to pull himself together.

"I-I don't know. Maybe you could tell me." He asked. Voldemort signalled for him to start.

"First, I was in a cupboard under the stairs. I went into the living room, and there was a family. Three of them. A man, a woman, and their son. They started telling me off for being lazy and ruining their days, and then…then I killed the man." He sniffed. Voldemort nodded, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Harry, my dear boy, that was the Muggle family they placed you with. They treated you like a slave, although I had no idea about you living in a cupboard under the stairs. That must have been awful." He sighed, actually feeling sorry for Harry. At least he'd had a room at the orphanage.

"And then I was in a tower." Harry continued. "I was in a tower and the Headmaster…"

"Dumbledore." Voldemort nodded.

"Yeah, he was there. And I was going to kill him, when I looked and there was a girl and a boy my age begging me to stop. The boy was ginger…

"Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Weasley is Draco's arch nemesis from what I've heard."

"Who were they?" Harry asked.

"Actors." Voldemort started, without a second thought. "Actors that Dumbledore paid to pretend to be your friends. He knew you were strong, Harry. They held you back. What happened next?"

Harry was still clinging to him. He hadn't looked up the entire time.

"I Crucio-ed Dumbledore. And then Imperio-ed him out of the window." Harry muttered. The Dark Lord laughed.

"Oh, Harry. It's funny you should say that, because that's how he died. He fell from your school's highest tower. How strange." Voldemort separated himself from Harry, and the boy finally looked up, no longer crying, but looking somewhat grateful for that bit of information.

He was scared to kill. Voldemort knew there had to be more trust built if Harry was going to hang on every word and obey his every command.

"Is there anything else?" He asked. "Or are you ready to go back to bed?"

Harry thought for a moment, before nodding.

"The son. From the Muggle family. He called me 'Potter'." Harry sighed. Voldemort froze.

"That…was the Muggle name they gave you. To hide you from your real family." He insisted. Harry nodded.

"I thought it sounded familiar, but…I think I'm used to Draco saying it? I think it matches him most."

"What about me?" Voldemort asked. "I was also told that was your name and called you it for many years."

Harry thought about it. A sharp hiss of the name. Yes, it fitted it well.

"I think I remember you calling me it at some point." Harry smiled. "You almost hissed it. I think it would also sound right coming from your mou…"

Voldemort suddenly swooped in and took the boy's lips for his own. Harry froze in shock for all of two seconds before he allowed it to happen, moaning slightly. Voldemort had to admit, he was stupidly attractive when he rambled, which was something he once found annoying. Now, however, it had become entertaining to watch. He pulled away, and Harry blushed deeply, not sure where to look. Voldemort ruffled his hair.

"Sleep well, Harry." As he went to leave the room, Harry called out to him.

"Am I still dreaming?"

Voldemort stopped for a moment in the doorway, not looking back. He smirked to himself.

"I'm afraid not."

…

Hi guys!

Well, that was a shocker even for me. Truth be told, I am making this up as I go along. I wasn't planning to have them kiss yet, but even writers get impatient.

Even I have no idea how this will end, but I hope you all stick around for it.

And I'm nearly at 100 followers! Thank you so much!

If any of you ever want to chat, or you have any ideas for how this could end, please message me at .com

You're all wonderful people.

-Alistair


	10. Chapter 10

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 10: The Meeting

…

Harry woke up the next day, slightly startled at the night before and not quite sure the events had actually taken place. He laid in bed, thinking to himself. Had he enjoyed it? Yes, but he could never bring himself to talk about it. Voldemort would have to do that. Instead, he laid back and tried to go back to sleep, when there was a knock on the door.

Narcissa entered, a huge smile gracing her face. Harry liked to see her smile, it was comforting and made him feel safe. She ruffled his hair lightly before starting the conversation.

"The Dark Lord is holding a Death Eater meeting today. He wishes for your company. He said, however, that if you needed rest, you could have it. Is everything alright?" She seemed slightly concerned, but was trying not to show it. Harry waved it off.

"Just bad dreams. He…he came in and checked on me last night. He heard me from down the corridor."

She frowned for a split second, before becoming all cheery again. Harry, however, sensed something fake about it.

"He seems to be very fond of you. Well, here are your robes. He wants you there at ten to ten. The others arrive on the dot. As his equal, he will share his plans with you before the others arrive."

She handed him his robes, before going to leave the room. Harry stopped her just before she did.

"Mother, what's wrong?"

She paused for a bit.

"I-I'm just nervous. My little boy is growing up and working with the most powerful wizard of all time. I just hope that he doesn't get you hurt."

Harry didn't quite understand, but Narcissa had rephrased the last part of her sentence on purpose.

'…I just hope he doesn't hurt you.'

…

Harry walked into the main hall nervously, unable to hold eye contact with the Dark Lord. Voldemort noticed that his face was red. If he became too embarrassed, Harry would start putting distance between them, which would ruin the plan. He had come this far, and decided that he had to keep them close. Harry was putty in his hands at this point, and he couldn't lose that.

The kiss the night before had felt good. He didn't quite understand why, but it was one of the best feelings he'd ever had. He didn't know if there was any actual emotion behind it, however. He kept telling himself there wasn't, that it was all part of the plan, but the truth was that he had no idea himself. The feeling was so pleasant that he could understand why many people became addicted.

Was he even capable of love? He didn't know as he had nothing to compare the experience too, but he knew that the pleasant feeling was a very foreign one.

Still, he wouldn't allow himself to entertain the idea.

"Harry, why so shy all of a sudden?" Voldemort smiled, stroking the back of the boys hand with his thumb in soothing circles. Harry blushed harder. He shrugged, but turned his hand over and clasped their fingers together. He finally looked up, and when there was only comfortable smiles, he loosened up.

"I thought maybe that you would think I was stupid? Or that you'd think I was some dumbstruck kid…"

"Harry, it was I who kissed you. I wouldn't have done it if I had thought that. Relax. Now," Voldemort fixed his attitude to work mode.

"We are plotting an attack on your old school. All the people who did you wrong shall be killed. We have asked the Werewolves for assistance, as well as the giants, and they have both agreed. Also, before the others get here, I have a firm instruction." He stared into Harry's eyes, and something about it signified that he wasn't going to like it.

"My follower Bellatrix Lestrange is not fond of you, Harry. She wished to be my equal. She was not worthy. If she causes any concern, such as an attack, you have full permission to use the Cruciatus Curse on her. Understood?" Voldemort asked sternly. Harry nodded.

…

"What's Potter doing here?" She screeched, almost Banshee-like.

"Do not question my work. Harry's memory loss means he has to be filled in." The Death Eater's faces all changed to ones of shock.

"You're glad to have your son back, aren't you, Lucius?" Voldemort smirked. Lucius nodded, unfeeling.

Voldemort filled them in on the plan to fight Hogwarts. Harry was able to follow until they mentioned they had already attempted it once before.

"When did that happen?" He asked. Voldemort smiled at him, gliding behind his chair and ruffling his hair.

"When we rescued you, Harry. All these people here helped to plot the death of Albus Dumbledore, your rescue. They wanted you back with us, working with us. You're valuable to us, Harry."

"Why?"

"Because you were the spirit of that school. You gave them hope. They thought that, with you, we didn't stand a chance. Now, we have you and that hope, and all the power we could possibly want. We can't lose."

…

Bellatrix had only had to be Crucioed twice in the meeting. The first time, she had tried to throw an Avada Kedavra Harry's way, and Voldemort had done it. The second time, she wouldn't shut up, and had obviously been flirting with the Dark Lord, and Harry had done it out of annoyance. He really hated the woman, not just for her voice and volume and temper, but because…there was something else he couldn't put his finger on.

He spent the rest of the day thinking and reading about Voldemort in the papers. For some reason, there was nothing past June 1980. He had searched the house, but there was nothing to be found.

Harry wasn't stupid. Narcissa acting weird, Voldemort generalising and not explaining anything that happened at the school in detail…they were hiding something from him.

And he was going to find out what.

…

Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I'm finally at over 100 followers!

To be perfectly honest, I've found another ship in another fandom I am desperate to do a giant animation project on, which means I have to finish this soon.

HOWEVER:

.This does not mean I'm not going to complete it. There will be sixteen chapters in total, and will be published as they are completed. Most of them will probably be done tonight, if not all.

.I will not rush them. No matter how much I want to move on, this has been fun, and I want to give you guys what you deserve.

Stay with me, and I hope you enjoy it!

-Alistair


	11. Chapter 11

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 11: Mindfulness

…

Harry woke up, sweating, his voice hoarse. Tears were flowing freely from his face, and he didn't even understand why. The man in his dream had had a kind face, and watching him die, being sucked into that silent veil, was traumatising, but he didn't get why.

Who was that man? Why was he so upset about his death? Had he killed him? Harry had a feeling that he had been the cause for the man's death. A death he apparently didn't deserve, or it wouldn't be haunting Harry.

Or would it regardless? He wasn't like Voldemort; he didn't have nerves of steel. He was sensitive. There were a few people he thought he could kill, like Bellatrix, but anyone else he thought would cause him overwhelming guilt.

For some reason, he had a feeling that Bellatrix had been involved in the man's death.

'Just make the nightmares stop!' Harry thought to himself, not expecting a reply.

'I would if I could. I don't like to see you in pain'. Came the reply, and Harry jumped. He knew the voice.

'How are you in my head?'

'I told you, Harry,' Voldemort started from three rooms down. 'You're special. We have a bond, a connection, that allows me to see into your mind. And I can allow you to see what I see too. What was the nightmare about this time?' He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. He didn't even know if he was or not.

'It was a man.' Harry stated. 'Being pulled into a veil. And it was silent. And he was staring at me. I killed him. Or someone else did. But I think it was me.'

There was a sudden knock on his door, and the Dark Lord entered, sitting on the side of Harry's bed as he had the night before. Harry grabbed at his hand, studying the veins he could see under the Dark Lord's skin.

Voldemort had to think quickly. Harry's dreams were giving him his memories back piece by piece. That had to stop.

"That was Bellatrix's cousin, Sirius Black. He was one of your kidnappers. Bellatrix hated him, and the two of you worked together to bring him down."

"Okay, but…"

To stop Harry talking about Sirius any further, Voldemort captured his lips for the second night in a row. Harry was immediately silenced, and although finding it pleasant as his attraction to Voldemort grew, Harry was also annoyed.

Something was very wrong. This Sirius figure may have been the key to finding out what they were keeping from him. Harry probably would have accepted the explanation without a second thought, however, the Dark Lord had accidentally slipped up.

Harry still didn't know much about himself or his life, but he knew that Voldemort was lying.

He still wasn't going to break the kiss over it.

Voldemort found the feeling positively addictive. He loved the feel of Harry's soft lips, his little gasps for breath, how soft Harry's hair felt in-between his fingers. He loved the tiny moans. Harry was just so _lovely_ …

No, he couldn't get lost in those thoughts. Harry was a pawn in his plan, nothing more. He had too much to worry about besides a relationship with the boy. Not that he would even consider it. He was the Dark Lord, he was going to rid the world of Muggleborns and punish the Wizarding World but…

…Harry was so very pretty.

They finally separated after a good ten minutes of testing each other's reactions and wants. Harry was panting, and Voldemort himself seemed to have enjoyed. It. He hugged Harry and settled him down again to sleep.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Yes?"

"Why are you lying to me?" Harry asked. Voldemort froze.

"What do you mean…?"

"Me and Lestrange work together? Even I know that's not a possibility." Voldemort sighed and ruffled his hair.

"I'll explain in the morning. Go to sleep, Harry."

"No more lies. We talk in the morning." Harry stated. "Agreed?"

Voldemort hesitated. His stupidity had caused his plans to come into jeopardy.

"Agreed. I'll see you in the morning." He left the room without another word.

Things were going to start getting difficult.

…

Hi. Same day again. This one's shorter, but there's going to probably be a longer one coming up after the next chapter, so I'm getting ready for that.

I hope you're enjoying the story!

-Alistair


	12. Chapter 12

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 12: Shattered Fairytales

…

"So I go to breakfast, he's not there. I check his room, nothing. Which is why I'm here. You're in on it, aren't you? And Mother." Harry growled. He and Draco were sitting in the dungeon, their place for talking when they didn't want to be heard. Now that he knew Voldemort could hear his thoughts, he had found a really catchy tune he could play on repeat in his head as he talked. He hoped it would do the trick.

"Harry, you don't want to go there." Draco sighed. "It's dumb. Your life now is better than it was." Harry could tell from Draco's face that he was telling the truth, but there were still signs of desperation in his face.

"Fine. How about I say everything I've been told so far, and all you have to do is say true or false, okay? I won't ask for details."

Draco hesitated for a long while, and Harry could tell that he really didn't want to get involved, but there was fear written all over his face.

"Just…don't hate us, okay?" He muttered. Harry nodded, and sat crossed legged in front of him.

"You're my brother, Mother's my mum."

"False." Draco cringed. "But that's how I see you now."

"Same. And that won't change, I promise. For you or Mother." Harry smiled. Draco smiled back, happy that Harry hadn't taken the news too badly.

"Your Father isn't my Father."

"True."

"My last name is Malfoy."

"False."

"So it _is_ Potter." Harry exclaimed. "When I heard it, I thought of you saying it."

"I used to be a douchebag to you in school." Draco laughed. "We'd only call each other by our last names."

Harry went through a few more, and Draco, now a lot more comfortable with the conversation, allowed him titbits of information.

"I lived with an abusive Muggle Family."

"True. Your Uncle, your Aunt and your cousin."

"Hermione and Ron were actors." Harry asked. Draco shook his head. He seemed a bit defeated but then Harry remembered Voldemort saying that Ron and Draco hated each other.

"They were your friends. You chose them over me in first year. Bet you regret that decision now, ay Potter?" He grinned. Harry grinned back. That sounded far too familiar.

"Sirius Black was an enemy."

"False. He was your Godfather. Bellatrix killed him." Draco commented. Harry suddenly felt a wave of relief. He was innocent.

"Albus Dumbledore was the scum of the Earth."

"True." Draco scowled. "And I'll stand by that. You would never have agreed with me, but he really did use you with no regard for your safety. You loved the old man. Even Granger knew something was wrong."

Harry suddenly stood up, and Draco followed suit. Harry hugged him tightly.

"Thank you for this. There's one more question I need an answer to, but I'll have to go to him for it. Tell Mother that we've talked, and tell her I love her, and she's still my Mother." He smiled. Draco nodded, and with that, Harry was off.

He ran through the Manor corridors. The Dark Lord had managed to evade him all morning, but Harry needed that one, final answer. And more, if he could get them. Every room seemed to be empty, when he stumbled across the double doors to the main hall. He paused, hearing hushed voices behind the door. He made them out as Lucius and Voldemort.

"Narcissa is worried about what you are planning for the boy. She's become attached to him, and wants to know why you've started to turn your partnership into something more…intimate."

"It's quite simple, Lucius." Harry heard a chair being dragged. "Harry's biggest weakness is his want for love. It used to be his greatest strength, but he is useless without it. For him to be stronger, for him to trust me more, it had to be that way. I have no intention of physically hurting the boy."

There was a silence, and harry was trying to figure out the context of what had just been said. Lucius asked for him.

"Do you actually have feelings for the boy?" He asked. Voldemort laughed.

"Me, have feelings for that impudent brat who made my life a living hell and beat me at the age of two? Have feelings for the boy who lived and cried and whined and doesn't have a brave bone in his body, Salazar knows why the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor. Don't be absurd, Lucius! I need his loyalty, and this was the easiest way to get it. It was so easy, it's embarrassing. Pathetic."

As Voldemort opened the double doors to leave, he stopped. Harry was stood in the hallway, tears streaming down his face.

"It's okay. Neither of you get me. I don't need you, or anyone. I'll just go die in peace so you can sort this bloody war out by yourselves."

"Harry, wait!" Voldemort cried out. But it was too late. Harry Potter was gone. And seemingly suicidal again.

 _Oh no._

…

Still the 20th October! I like where this is going. When I said I had planned out 16 chapters, they are literally just a word so I know the main event, like this one was 'Heartbreak'. The details are made up as I go along.

We're getting somewhere!

-Alistair


	13. Chapter 13

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 13: Truth

…

Harry was in the Forest, close to the Estate, running as fast as he could.

He wasn't a Malfoy. As much as he loved Draco and Narcissa, it was not where he belonged. He couldn't go back to the abusive Muggle family, and Voldemort would soon be storming the school.

Voldemort. The word wanted to make him cry and throw up all at once. He was finally understanding how it tasted on other people's tongues.

He felt like an idiot. He had trusted the most feared man in the world, had allowed the man to see him at his most vulnerable. He had trusted the man.

He didn't belong there, or with the Muggles, or at the school. A familiar sense of numbness washed over him, and there was only one answer. Amongst all the chaos, there was a way out. An easy way out.

He was going to die.

…

Voldemort listened to his thoughts, his own too hectic to even try to rationalise. The calmness scared him. He had forgotten what fear felt like, but it had reared its ugly head, and he was feeling sick to his stomach. When Harry had begged for death initially, it had been nearly funny. This time, it wasn't.

And it was because this time, he actually cared.

The look on Harry's face was going to haunt him for years, that much he knew. The pure, burning sorrow on his face was horrible. However, nothing was more terrifying than the calm. As soon as he decided on his next move, Voldemort jumped to his feet and stormed towards the entrance to the Castle.

Just as he reached the door, he was stopped. Narcissa glared at him, and he realised that he'd never seen the woman look quite so angry before. She blocked the door.

"What have you done?" She growled. Voldemort suddenly felt like a child. He felt weak.

"Something terrible. I need to fix it."

"Do you love him?" She asked. The question was met with silence.

He wasn't sure. He had no comparison point, nothing to base his thoughts on.

"I…honestly don't know. But he's going to get hurt if…"

"Go find my son." She ordered, stepping away from the door.

"Bring him home."

…

Harry had managed to find a cliff. He sat on the edge of it, gazing out across the ocean. Falling seemed like a quick and peaceful way to die. Heights didn't scare him at all, and the idea of flying almost brought back happy memories. Draco had told him he was a good Quidditch player. That was probably it.

There was a feeling of panic in the back of his head for a while that he knew wasn't him, before it turned into a sense of determination. There was a loud crack sound behind him. He refused to turn around.

"Harry, come back from the edge."

He hated that voice, loathed it and the foul words that spilled from it, but it was still strangely comforting. Harry hated himself even more for thinking it. He stayed silent, and didn't say a word.

"I didn't mean any of it." Voldemort started. Harry scoffed, close to tears at the sound of his voice.

"You've lied to me the entire time I've been here. You're two faced. Why do you expect me to believe a single thing that leaves your mouth?"

Harry had a good point. Voldemort felt defeated.

"Harry…"

"Do you love me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Don't lie. I'll know."

Checkmate.

"Harry, it's not as easy as that…" The Dark Lord muttered, as he watched Harry slide forward and off of the Cliff.

"HARRY!"

…

IT'S A CLIFFHANGER.

GEDDIT?

I'm sorry. I'm ill and tired and cold and lonely and hungry.

Allow me a stupid joke.

Also, thanks to Black Shades of Red for pointing out my publishing error. I'm hoping it's now fixed.

-Alistair


	14. Chapter 14

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 14: Falling is Flying Without A Purpose

…

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

Harry stopped in mid-air, before slowly rising back to the top of the cliff.

Desperate arms wrapped themselves tightly around his body, and the warmth of it had Harry bawling his eyes out. Before long, he wasn't the only one crying. He looked up to the Dark Lord, who was too distressed to even notice his own tears.

"Please, never do that to me again." He spluttered. "You foolish boy. Narcissa would have attempted to kill me."

"So this is for her." Harry sighed, annoyed that he was not being allowed the peace he craved so much. Voldemort shook his head.

"Not at all." He started. "If you would have let me finish, I would have told you that I don't know what love feels like at all, so there isn't a way for…"

"You would know." Harry said, still completely indifferent in his speech. Voldemort frowned.

"All I know is that I feel at my best when you're there. Kissing you makes me feel happy. I can't stand the idea of you ever leaving my side, and I get jealous when other people get too close to you. I think that you're wonderful to look at, you interest me, and you mean a lot to me." Harry could tell that he was kicking himself.

"I will not lie. You came to me, suicidal after the effects of the war, cursing Dumbledore's name. I took you in and offered you a partnership. I then wiped your memory so I could rebuild you. The plan was to make you my most loyal Death Eater by any means possible."

He sat on the grass and Harry sat opposite.

"Unfortunately…well, no, I guess it could be a good thing. I became far too attached to you." He sighed, holding out a hand. Harry laid his on top and Voldemort played with it absent mindedly as he talked.

"I had gotten to the point where I thought a monster like me didn't deserve love. And then you happened. You, after I had killed your parents, your Godfather. When I had you in near death experiences over and over again. And finally, when you tried to end it yourself, I couldn't let you. At first, it was a rule that if I didn't kill you, no one else would get the chance. Now, I think it's more along the lines of if I can't _have_ you, no one else can." The two of them sat in silence for a while, Voldemort expectantly waiting for Harry to say something.

"Wow." Was all that left his mouth.

"Wow?"

"That's pretty much the closest to love you're going to get. It was a pretty good description." Harry locked eyes with Voldemort, and they were both frozen in place for a few seconds.

Harry suddenly captured the lips of the older man. He didn't known why, he was still angry, but it seemed to be exactly what he needed to get rid of the numb feeling. He felt alive again, especially as Voldemort's arms wrapped around his waist, desperate to hold him and make sure he was safe.

"Come on." Said Harry.

"Let's go home."

…

Draco pretty much jumped on him as he walked through the door. The boy was in hysterics, tears streaming down his face.

"I was so scared you had gone for good. I only just got a friend. Don't leave yet." He mumbled.

"Not a chance, Malfoy." Harry grinned. Draco laughed, sniffing slightly.

Narcissa let them have their moment, but Harry wandered her way and hugged her.

"I love you, Mother." He whispered. She patted his back.

"I love you too, my son."

As Harry let go, she turned to Voldemort.

"Thank you, my Lord." She smiled. He nodded.

"My pleasure."

…

Welp.

I'm in so much pain.

-Alistair


	15. Chapter 15

Together

Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?

Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.

I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.

Chapter 15: Fixing the Broken

…

He had offered to restore the boy's memories. Harry had refused. He didn't want to remember all the bad things in detail, especially not after what had happened. He and Voldemort were close again, and Harry wanted to keep it that way.

Things changed in Malfoy Manor. Lucius had complained about the relationship, and his rank amongst the Death Eaters had been dropped. Narcissa, as an avid supporter, had been promoted to Lucius' place, at the disgust of her husband.

Draco had been in a funny position. Voldemort still felt a tang of jealousy any time Harry spoke highly of him, but Harry had noticed and Voldemort had started to be nicer towards Draco. Having his brother as second in command and his mother as third helped. It wasn't long before Draco overtook his father. This caused many arguments between his parents, who eventually filed for a divorce.

To say he was better off due to Harry's presence was an understatement.

…

Harry sat in Voldemort's room, waiting for him to get back from a meeting. He had decided not to attend this one as they were discussing a peace treaty with the school, and he didn't want the other Death Eaters to think Voldemort was only doing it because Harry was there. Making it look like it had been Voldemort's own choice would most likely make his followers more loyal.

He spun round when he heard a knock at the door, and smiled as his partner floated gracefully into the room. It was weird to think they were official, and although only close family knew, Harry was all the happier for it. Harry moved up on the bed, lowering his book and the Dark Lord lay beside him.

"How did the meeting go?" Harry asked, not particularly interested. He already knew the answer.

"Well. They weren't happy, but they know better than to say no to me."

"If I say no to you, you sulk. It's not that scary."

Voldemort turned to Harry and smiled wickedly, suddenly grabbing the boy's chin in his hand.

"But would you really want to say no to me?"

Harry rolled his eyes and looked away.

"I'm not interested." He sighed. He was interested, but he wanted to see how far he could push the older man. And it was working. Voldemort was visibly annoyed, but Harry wasn't happy yet.

"I don't think you're telling the truth. I can read your thoughts, remember?" He grinned, hoping to get a rise out of Harry. The opposite happened when Harry rolled his eyes and thought loudly to himself.  
'Is he really that desperate?'

By this point, Voldemort was seething. He had worked himself up and was being denied, but he knew better than to force it, lest he be met with the wrath of Narcissa Malfoy.

Instead, he sat in silence and sulked as Harry read. Harry had to hide his grin behind the book as he continued to read for a good five minutes.

Finally, he gave in. He dropped the book and climbed on to the Dark Lord's lap, leaning forward and kissing him passionately. Voldemort seemed surprised at the sudden action, but definitely wasn't complaining at that point. Clothes started disappearing with not a word between the two, only a sly glance or gesture to suggest where they were going next.

Voldemort trailed his hands down Harry's slender frame, suddenly struck with the idea that this was actually happing, he was finally being allowed to do this, and realised just how lanky and fragile Harry looked. He was pale anyway, but Voldemort suddenly became afraid of breaking him. Harry saw his concern and stroked the side of his face tenderly.

"It's okay." He whispered. "I'll be fine."

Harry slid down Voldemort's body, and there was a sudden wave of pleasure. Voldemort threw his head back and shut his eyes. Harry was rather good with his mouth. Voldemort admittedly didn't have much to base that assumption off of, but the good feeling racking his body told him that Harry was indeed, very talented.

Harry was enjoying it much more than he had expected to. Having a resurrected snake-man for a boyfriend doesn't make for a typical relationship, but Harry was seeing past that. At this point, the Dark Lord had been reduced to a moaning, shivering wreck, and Harry liked the loss of power. He dug his nails into the Dark Lord's sides and pulled down, resulting in a louder moan.

With so many years of pain, Harry wanted him to start enjoying it, even if it was just a little.

Harry pulled himself back up and his hand went to the bedside cabinet. Voldemort looked at him worriedly, eyes still clouded over slightly.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Harry? If you would rather wait…"

"Excuse you." Harry started. "I just gave you what you wanted. It's only fair you return the favour."

Voldemort took the bottle of lube from the boy, chuckling.

…

It felt better than anything ever had in his life, Harry had his nails dug into the Dark Lord's chest, riding him at a steady pace. The breathing in the room was heavy, and Voldemort would let out a groan ever so often that made Harry go faster. Voldemort stroked Harry as he moved up and down, and the two of them struggled to keep their eyes open, staring straight at each other when they could. The feeling was far too good.

"Harry…" Voldemort groaned. Harry bit his lip and nodded. He knew.

A few more thrusts and Voldemort gasped, letting go of Harry as his body was flooded with ecstasy. Harry finished himself off, and finished over the Dark Lord's chest.

"Well…" Voldemort started. "That wasn't what I was expecting."

"Same here." Harry smiled, trying to catch his breath, grinning, his hair a mess, his skin sheened with sweat. Voldemort thought he looked divine. "But it was good."

…

The two of them fell asleep next to each other. The next day, Harry met with Draco, and the two of them were going to go for a walk, when Draco pointed something out.

"What's that bruise on your neck?"

At the base of Harry's neck was a huge purple mark. Harry looked in a mirror and blushed violently as he noticed the tiny little teeth marks. He had forgotten about that.

"Draco, I can explain…" Harry tried, but it was too late. Draco had figured it out from the shade of Harry's face.

"You didn't!"

"Draco…"

"How was it?"

"Stop."

"Tell me right now, Potter, or I'll tell Mother."

"Draco!"

"Did it have scales on it?"

"DRACO!"

…

END

…

Thank you so much for sticking with this story! This chapter was the hardest to write, and I finally figured out why.

When I was younger, I found smut the easiest thing in the world to write. Now, I find it so much harder. I think the reason for this is that now I know what good, realistic sex is like, it's very difficult to put it in a way that isn't extremely crude or fake. Which is why I avoided a lot of things, like even talking about genitalia at all. I don't feel that I needed to.

If you didn't like that, and prefer the cruder style, I am afraid this is something I can no longer give. I see sex as such a beautiful thing now days that I can't describe it the way I used to. I apologise if that was a let down.

It's been such a pleasure to write this, and I hope the next fic you read is perfect for you!

-Alistair


End file.
